He had his eyes on something on the other side of the eggplant. He needed to investigate.
He hurried past the marigolds and peach tree. Something was driving him.
Was it the garden hell cat lounging in the peppers after dinner?
That’s a big, “NO WAY, Jose. Scram, pooch.”
He was annoyed at something. He was annoyed that I couldn’t understand English Mastiff. For Pete’s sake. What does a dog need to do around here to be understood?
Drool bubbles were starting to fly with his aggravation. What did he want?
Did he want some of the summer leftovers in the garden? Nope.
Did he want a game of “pull the legs off the grasshopper” with the garden hell cat? Again, no.
He wanted a dirt clod to enjoy on the lawn as an after dinner treat.
Delicious!
2 comments:
He's a sweetheart, not like one of my two rascals (or maybe them both), who dug up the bell pepper bed to bury their bone!
Dirt clod. Yum. Better than my dogs treat of choice: various bits of deer left by the coyotes and the Mountain Lion.
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